


Lord Phobos and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

by emilycmbl



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Gen, i just wanted to write about my boy, idk what im doing, im just doing wtvr man and maybe smth will stick, is lord phobos actually a royal lord?? i dont think even this fic knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-30 01:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16755175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilycmbl/pseuds/emilycmbl
Summary: It hadn't been a big deal before today, but Phobos had never been off-planet before. He really didn't know what to say now that this was the first he was seeing of the galaxy.~Just a short musing of some of Phobos's thoughts post-planet collapse, fading into an unofficial vow of silence.





	Lord Phobos and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> I only really started listening to TWRP like...three months ago and still I don't have the clearest view on the canon/backstories, so I guess this is just sort of my take on it? My interpretation? If something is horribly off-script then...just think of this a very slightly altered AU. Enjoy!

The way they were all cramped into Sung’s ship was just about one step above being packed like sardines into a smelly, stuffy Earth bus, uncomfortably holding unnatural positions to keep some guise of balance and personal space. Not that any of them knew what that experience was like yet. Earth was a far-off dream none of them knew even existed. 

The ship was built for one person, though you could have sworn that even Sung had outgrown it some time ago. It didn’t help that they had stuffed a (possibly homicidal?) robot in the back, a disgraced smuggler leaving a planet in ruins as a consequence of his last job, and the lord of said planet now stranded, homeless, three inches away from the obliterator of his society.

It was kind of awkward to say the least. 

Phobos didn’t know exactly what to do. He was having a hard time believing any of this was his reality, and not some sort of experimental simulation he couldn’t remember agreeing to do back on his home planet. His home planet, which he was slowly gaining distance from. His home planet, which he couldn’t do anything as it descended into unbridled chaos, all out of his reach. Doctor Sung’s helmet uncomfortably pushed up against his left shoulder. He shifted in his pose.

It hadn’t been the biggest deal at the time, but Phobos distinctly remembered several conversations with his friends and family discussing life off-planet. Vacations, retirement locations, adventure destinations, even — all the details came flooding through his mind, pounding against his head. His mother’s wistful longing of her days before she’d settled down, his brother’s escapades studying abroad, even his advisors preparing him for future political discussions with the leadership of other planets — it all seemed rather unremarkable at the time. He’d always wondered how it would finally feel to leave his home, to walk on foreign ground and breathe alien air. He’d never left his planet. That sometimes earned a look of slight surprise, or even confusion, but before long the conversation would move on and that one little fact would be forgotten. It wasn’t a big deal. 

He supposed it was somewhat strange, though not unheard of, for someone in his position to have never ventured off-planet. Yet even as this thought passed his mind, he knew deep down that the title of ‘Lord’ didn’t signify anything, really. It made him feel important, his parents satisfied, and provided him the privilege to pour time and effort into his passions that otherwise wouldn’t have been granted to ordinary citizens. Zero to no responsibilities, with a flashy title and a slightly inflated ego. 

He didn’t need to leave his home to accomplish all that, so he didn’t. 

“So,” Doctor Sung started, and somehow it wasn’t an intrusion on the silence. “Do you guys wanna tell me what happened?”

Lord Phobos was in the middle of deciding whether or not he cared enough to answer him, before realising that there wasn’t anything he really wanted to say. The angle of the ship now prevented him from seeing his planet, which, even though he had no prior frame of reference, looked just as it ever did from where they were. The damage was all internal. Havve whirred in the back, wordlessly looking between Phobos and Meouch. 

The commander shifted in his seat.

Either the silence persisted, or someone started talking, but Phobos wasn’t paying attention. They were nearing neighbouring planets, and Phobos decided it was too much to comprehend how the collapse of his home planet could ripple out into the rest of the solar system. Whether they would face downfall in a horrible domino line or somehow scrape by despite the sudden disappearance of one of the major players, or heck, even prosper with one less planet to worry about, it was too much for these thoughts to be the only ones he could have when it was the first time he got to see the galaxy. He closed his eyes to stop thinking about it.

Commander Meouch might have just finished saying something, maybe justifying his actions, or apologising, or maybe he had stayed silent and no one had ever given the doctor an answer. Regardless, Phobos considered the feline smuggler, if not to just distract himself from the celestial bodies floating a little too perfectly between the stars. 

Phobos knew it wasn’t Meouch’s fault. Not really. He knew that from the moment he first saw him, the commander’s face just as panicked as he was sure his was when fleeing his home, the first seconds of chaos only starting to tick by. He knew Meouch’s job, and its consequence, was really only indicative of a larger problem facing his planet and solar system which no one had bothered to mention before, either due to an instinct within nobility to sweep issues that hurt their reputation under the rug, or an intentional prevention of communication with each other to help solve any issues. Whichever way it had spread, Phobos knew it was far more institutional and too far gone from a solution that a single smuggler could tear it down within an hour. Meouch wasn’t to blame for the uncovering of the malicious ignorance that ran rampant throughout Lord Phobos’s home. If it hadn’t been him, it would’ve been the next one. 

“Phobos?” It was Meouch. 

Dammit. He hadn’t been listening. What were they saying?

Havve shifted in the back, accompanying the relentless thrumming of Doctor Sung’s ship with short, rhythmic whirring for just a few moments. Phobos might have found it endearing if he wasn’t met with those piercing, methodical eyes every time he turned his head. 

“My Lord?” 

It was only then that Phobos finally turned towards Commander Meouch. There was something he couldn’t read in his eyes; possibly a desperate, clawing plea for forgiveness, or maybe just a resigned acknowledgement of their frankly awkward situation. He could hardly tell if he was being sincere, either, but the way he addressed him — _My Lord_ — Phobos clenched his jaw. Had Meouch lived under his kingdom?

Meouch had come from off-planet — obviously — but there was a certain tenderness in those words, a certain familiarity as they rolled off his tongue, that brought Phobos back to his citizens, the people who were truly only beneath him by a single stroke of faith: some damn good luck for him, and just life for everyone else.

It wasn’t Meouch’s fault. Not really. 

Phobos turned from the commander without saying a word, and he felt Doctor Sung’s helmet push up next to him again as the pilot quickly scanned the two from either side, still trying to focus on the expanse ahead. 

The citizens that had addressed Phobos as their lord — everyday people passing him by on the streets, his parents through pride as thick and as sweet as honey, even his brother in pure jest — they didn’t have the chance that Meouch now had, to look upon him and say it, as familiar as ever. He looked out the window and saw nothing but faint stars flickering in the distance, undisturbed by any of his thoughts or worries. Commander Meouch, who had brought their downfall through no intention of his own, spoke upon their grave. They had all lost their voice to Meouch, and Phobos might just have, as well. 

Doctor Sung sighed. “There’s a galaxy I’ve heard talk of — a spiral one, somewhere in the Virgo Supercluster — that I’ve been meaning to check out. I think we can find something there.”


End file.
